Gary drove Enrique and Nova to the mansion while Tyrese and O.J found their way out of the area. They had seen enough Stranger Things in less than 24 hours. The Lancasters mansion was already brimming with bright lights, confetti and other party stuff. William had also gone to a different airport to pick up his wife. The house slowly turned into a party gala, welcoming two women back home. Nova Whitemore, the successful business woman from France, and Elena, William’s wife who also went on a business trip. “Oh my beautiful baby girl,” Madam Ann shed some tears as she ran to hug Nova while the rest of the family trailed along, each getting a turn to touch the now made billionaire. Enrique was the only one standing there still processing the shock from earlier. Gary however just stood there, wondering what was going on. How and why would the two women suddenly barge into New York? Especially with the recent happenings at his office with Calvin and the mysterious ring from China. So

The courtyard erupted in cheers. Glasses clinked. Cameras flashed. A slow, cinematic spotlight spun across the grand balcony overhead—and then, stepping out like royalty from a world stage, Edmond appeared. Tall, broad-shouldered, every inch sculpted by generations of perfection and privilege. His tuxedo fit him like skin. His jawline could slice diamonds. And when he smiled, it wasn’t just charm—it was a calculated blade sheathed in charisma. He waved once. Then twice. Women whispered. Men nodded with manufactured admiration. He was like a mini god. Ladies tripped to be with him. He had accomplished great things in the land of America, taken over his father’s legacy and built it into a much bigger empire. Men were proud of the young man, women adored him and would leave even their husbands to be with Edmond Edgar. Inside the ballroom, the celebration exploded. Violinists and pianists dueled musically in opposite corners. Waiters weaved through the crowd with crystal platters. Cha

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer called out, his voice booming over the crystal chandeliers and the elegant hum of old money. “As you may already know, our very own beloved Edmond Edgar is an artist of great renown. A master of oil and patience. A son to our gracious host, Mr. Edgar himself. Tonight, one of his most revered pieces will be auctioned off to the highest bidder. We will start the bidding at five million dollars.” There was a slow ripple of applause—reserved, polite, noble. All the kind of applause rich people gave when pretending they weren’t desperate. And yet, there was hunger in the room. The kind of hunger that made men betray their brothers and women poison their sisters. That painting wasn't just a pretty canvas—it was an investment with wings, a thing of legacy, something that would quadruple in value and cement its owner in the hallways of cultural aristocracy. Nova’s eyes narrowed as she sipped her wine, the burgundy liquid kissing her lips as she watch

When the family arrived home, they were unusually quiet. Really quiet and numb. All eyes were on Gary. Madam Ann, William and his wife, Enrique, Donald, Ruth, Evelyn, Nova. They kept staring at Gary like he was some kind of ghost who had appeared from the dead to haunt them. Enrique was the first to speak. “Nice trick you pulled back there, Gary. Really nice trick. I’ve always known you to be a loser, little did I know you are also a trickster, a scammer and a fucking theif. I’m not even gonna say much, cause you would never be able to pull out two hundred million dollars. Not in this lifetime, not in the next.” Enrique scoffed and walked upstairs to his room. He was ashamed to gaze into Nova’s eyes. He had embarrassed himself in front of her. And again, who saved his ass? Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary. Ruth said nothing. She simply brushed past him with a slight, “Weirdo!” Donald walked up to him. “I’d love to see you pay for that painting. I’d love to see the whole world laugh at

The towering glass edifice of Arcadia Estates & Holdings Inc. stood like a monument to ambition itself, thirty-eight stories of reflective glass slicing into the morning sky like a knife. It was more than a building; it was a declaration. Sleek, corporate, and intimidating in its modern elegance, Arcadia wasn’t just one of the biggest real estate development firms in the country—it was the biggest. Where empires were built, where billion-dollar deals were signed behind closed doors lined with bulletproof glass and designer furniture. Evelyn Lancaster drove her silver coupe into the underground parking lot, her jaw set, her fingers clenched around the steering wheel. Every minute since she left the house had been a war inside her head—Nova's laughter echoing, Gary’s calmness haunting. The image of them standing in the kitchen together, like it was their home. Their kitchen. Their morning. She slammed her door shut and stormed through the revolving doors of Arcadia, her high heels